The Fine Line
by Lady Bordeaux
Summary: Albus and James always tended to tread on the "hate" part of that fine line, getting into legendary shouting matches and nearly ripping each other to shreds as they battled it out for the Quidditch Cup. Everyone always seemed to forget, however, what was on the other side.


**Don't know where this came from. Just felt like writing it. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I don't _want _a brother!"

When Harry Potter let loose the fact that these were the first words regarding Albus Severus Potter to be spoken by James, there was only one person who didn't believe him. Ron let out a bittersweet laugh, shook his head and said, "That's a shocker, there. Those two never got on, did they?" And talk ensued about the two's constant state of arguing, teasing, and the never-ending war between their houses.

Hermione sighed in that way of hers; quietly with a spot of exasperation. "It's quite a shame, really. I always thought they would grow closer as they got older." She turned her head to the side and gazed out the window, as she always did when she was thinking of things that she didn't _want _to think about. She didn't speak much as the conversation continued.

Molly, in a voice that had stayed firm even in her old age, had to disagree. She'd been around children long enough to know when a particularly strained relationship was born, and she'd seen it straight away with James and Albus. "Always pushing each other around, even from the start."

Teddy and Victoire, holding hands on a loveseat opposite Harry, had input as well. "I always thought things were bad between Dom and I. Then Albus came along." She let out a quick breath. "_Damn, _did those two hate each other." As Ginny protested, saying hate was a rather strong word for it, Teddy met Harry's eyes from across the room and told him all he needed to hear. _How ironic. _

He was the only one who knew.

* * *

Harry wasn't going to deny it. Not all of the comments uttered in that room were incorrect. In fact, a lot of them were spot on. Albus and James always tended to tread on the "hate" part of that fine line, getting into legendary shouting matches, nearly ripping each other to shreds as they battled it out for the Quidditch Cup. His relatives always seemed to forget, however, what was on the other side.

* * *

When Albus was sorted into Slytherin, Harry worried.

He didn't worry about Al's character being corrupted. He had always possessed a kind nature, despite his tendency to shut other people out. He was firm in his beliefs and even more stubborn than his father. No, his character was quite safe.

Harry didn't worry about his son not making friends. He was sorted into Slytherin for a reason; he was sure to meet plenty of people who, like him, preferred to do things on their own. He would come out of Hogwarts with plenty of long-term friends, Harry was sure.

No, Harry was worried about Albus's _brother_.

Ginny had waved it off as harmless teasing, James's taunts about Al being sorted in Slytherin. "He's a thirteen year-old boy," she explained, rolling her eyes. "He's just kidding." Even after Al's placement, she strongly believed that James would simply rub it in Al's face for a few weeks before getting bored. "It's not as if he's personally offended by Al's placement. That," she shot Harry an amused look, "would be a different story _entirely._"

While Harry agreed that Albus's sorting hadn't upset James (on the contrary, it seemed to make him quite happy, not to mention smug) he knew his first-born very well. He took after Harry's own father in terms of personality. He loved being right, and in this case, he'd been spot on. The long-term effects of this, he knew, were going to be worse than his wife thought.

And they were. His suspicions were backed up, if not confirmed, by Albus's absence during the holidays. He'd promised to be back over break before he left King's Cross, but wrote a few weeks before Christmas, saying that he had changed his mind and wanted to stay at Hogwarts. He claimed to have made friends that were asking him to remain there, but when Harry had asked James, his oldest son had gone scarlet and muttered something along the lines of "must be pretty popular" before hurrying off to his bedroom at top speed.

When summer break rolled around, Harry paid attention to his two son's interactions far more than he ever had before. He noted, with concern, how Al avoided his brother at all costs. He always came down to eat breakfast after James had finished, and didn't speak a word to him during dinner. He would shut himself up in his room during the day and only come out when James wasn't around.

Fed up with Albus's blatantly obvious shunning, Harry eventually decided to confront him. One night, after a late night at the office, he crept into Al's room after changing out of his work robes. "Al?" he whispered. "You awake?"

Harry heard the rustling of bed covers, followed by a soft, "Yeah. Why?"

Turning on the lamp that sat on Albus's bed-side desk, he gently lowered himself onto the mattress and replied, "Have you been feeling alright?" He assumed it was better to slowly bring up the main subject, rather than risk upsetting his son.

Albus gave him a slightly nervous look. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quiet. Harry was surprised to find that he look entirely awake. Bright green eyes stared back at him, wide and alert.

Brushing aside his concern, Harry said, "You haven't been...around much. Do you have schoolwork to do?" Harry knew full-well that Albus would have his schoolwork completely finished this late in the summer; he was far more studious than Harry had ever been. He figured, however, that it was a good idea to ask a few harmless questions before making the inquiry that mattered.

Al shrugged, his messy black hair falling over his eyes as he did so. He didn't reply, but Harry could see him wringing his hands below the sheets. His eyes darted here and there, coming to rest on the window, the floor, back to the window.

Harry let out a deep sigh. He didn't want to ask. He truly didn't. But push had come to shove and he couldn't keep beating around the bush. "Is, ah...is James bothering you?" Harry nearly winced at the sound of his own question; even to his own ears something about it sounded bad. Al's eyes widened considerably, and then, to Harry's utter shock, began to fill with tears. He bowed his head, looking utterly ashamed of himself.

"All year he kept telling me about how he'd been right all along, how I was the odd one out of the family, how..." he trailed off, and drew his knees up to his chest and put his face in his hands.

Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort his son, to hug him or at least give his shoulder a squeeze, tell him that he had nothing to feel bad about. That at his age, Harry hated disappointing people, too. But he needed to find out the truth, so he asked lightly, "How what?"

Very slowly, Albus put his hands down and looked up at him, his green eyes sad and lonely. "How you wouldn't be proud of me. How you wanted me in Gryffindor and I ended up in Slytherin."

Harry felt a jolt of surprise shoot through him. James had done a few mean things before, but _this_? This was cruel. He leaned down towards Albus, gripped him by the shoulders and stated, quietly but firmly, "I am _very _proud of you, Albus Severus. You showed the world that you can prosper in _any _house, no matter its reputation. Your marks were wonderful! And the friends you wrote me about? If you'd been in Gryffindor you might have never even talked to each other. If you're happy where you are, then _I _am happy where you are. I would never be ashamed of you because of what house you were sorted into. Never." He pulled his son into a tight, quick hug before releasing him and saying, "Do you understand?"

Albus nodded, his eyes happier than they'd been before. "You're really proud of me?" he asked, his tone still timid.

Harry smiled. "More than you know."

After he had left his son's bedroom, he strided down the hall towards James's bedroom. He opened the door and turned on the lamp before standing back and crossing his arms. James turned over to look at him, hair ruffled and eyes blurry. "What?" he asked, irritated.

James hated being outright accused of anything, so Harry opted for a question. Giving him what Harry truly hoped as a stern look, he asked, "Have you been teasing your brother?"

James wiped the sleep out of his eyes and stared at him for a moment, thinking about the question. Finally, after a few moments, he layed his head back down on his pillow and spoke to the ceiling, "You're going to have to be more specific."

Harry heaved a deep, exasperated breath before replying stonily, "Have you been teasing your brother about being in Slytherin?"

There was a very long silence, in which the only sound was the insects outside James's window. Said boy continued to gaze at the ceiling, looking as though he was carefully contemplating what words to use. He eventually just scowled and muttered, "Who cares if I have? It's just teasing! It's not like I _attacked _him..."

Harry shook his head. "Just teasing? James, he doesn't speak. He hardly eats. He's so ashamed of himself that he can barely look me in the eyes."

The oldest Potter boy rolled his eyes, though there was a bit of worry in them now. "I was just kidding-"

"_Just kidding_! Then _please_, James, tell me why you had to 'kid' him all year long!"

James opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to be at a complete loss for words. "I just-I-"

"_You what?"_

"It doesn't matter!" James burst out, sitting up abruptly and scowling. "He's being stupid, this is so _pointless_, can I just go back to sleep?"

Harry threw his hands into the air before letting them land back at his sides. "Fine. If you really want your brother to hate you, then _fine_. Go ahead."

Moments of silence passed. Father and son glared at each other, identical expressions of anger on their faces. However, as the seconds passed, Harry's frustration began to ebb away. He sighed and spoke one last time, his voice softer now, though still tainted with a sharp edge. "If you let him slip through your fingers," he warned, "you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

The anger that had been so clear on James's face quickly turned to surprise, and Harry wondered for a moment if he should've said his last sentence. Perhaps he was too young.

But the words were said, were still hanging in the air around them. He couldn't pull them back in.

He turned and walked out the door.

...

The next morning, as Harry drowsily made his way toward the kitchen, he was stopped in the hallway by voices coming from Albus's room. Curious, he quietly stepped towards the doorway and nearly yelped in surprise.

There, sitting on Al's bed, was James. He was talking softly to his brother, a guilty look on his face. Harry watched, with mixed feelings of happiness and surprise, as Albus just smiled and pulled his brother into a hug. James jerked back a little, his hands awkwardly hanging in the air. After a few moments, however, he tentatively wrapped his arms around Al's shoulders, and Harry could swear that he saw the faintest hint of a smile grace the Potter boy's lips.

* * *

"So, you saw the last Quidditch match, then?"

Teddy Lupin nodded as he hung his heavy winter jacket on the coat rack next to the door. After stomping his feet on the rug and ridding them of any stubborn snow, he added, "The conditions were awful. Freezing rain and lightning." He gave a little shudder. "Nearly froze to death myself. I don't know how on earth Albus caught that snitch."

Harry glanced up in surprise. "Slytherin beat Gryffindor, then?" he asked. "Neither James or Al has written me about it and I keep forgetting to ask Neville."

Teddy nodded once more, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. "Crushed them. Gryffindor's seeker _and _reserve seeker were both sick with a nasty case of the flu, so James had to fill in instead of playing chaser. Al caught the snitch within ten minutes."

Harry winced. "Bet James wasn't too happy about that."

"About playing seeker or losing?"

"Both."

After seating themselves in the living room, Teddy said, "Actually, I saw something _quite _strange after the match was over."

"Yeah?"

"I was going to congratulate Al when I saw he was already with James and...Al was _hugging _him." He said the word as though it were foreign. Harry snorted.

"Are you sure _James _wasn't hugging _Al_?" he asked dryly.

Teddy rolled his eyes. Ignoring Harry's comment he continued, "And then it got even stranger. They pulled apart and started talking. And smiling. And laughing."

_"Laughing_, you say?" Harry said in mock surprise, smirking.

Teddy didn't even notice Harry's tone. He just nodded and replied, "I've never seen them act so...brotherly. Especially after a Quidditch match! Where James lost! It was kind of unnerving." Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really! Most of the time they act as though they despise each other."

Harry gave a short laugh. "Oh, they do."

Teddy's right eye gave a little twitch, confusion etched on his face.

"Just because you can't stand somebody doesn't mean you don't _care _about them. You can love somebody but not like them."

Teddy just stared for a few seconds before concluding, "So, James loves Al...but doesn't, er, _like _him?"

"And vice versa."

"...that makes no sense. Whatsoever, Harry, whatsoever."

"As always, with the Potter family relationships."

* * *

It was probably the Christmas of Albus's fifth year that convinced the Potter/Weasley family of James and Al's utter hatred of each other.

It seemed like every other Christmas that had come to pass. Snow fell in buckets around the Burrow. Smells from Molly's delicious cooking filled each room and seasonal decorations were hung above every door and on every wall. Laughter rung throughout the house as everybody spoke about their current lives, glad to be in good company.

Harry was sitting on a couch with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, listening to James tell a riveting story of a prank he pulled on a seventh-year Hufflepuff.

"and _then_, Alice and I-"

He stopped abruptly. Harry watched in confusion as he turned to where Al was sitting in an armchair with a book spread over his lap. "_What did you say_?"

Al glanced up, clearly surprised at being caught. He quickly collected himself, however, and said, "You heard me."

Hermione and Ron both glanced at Harry, worried, and obviously wanting him to break this up before things went downhill. Clearing his throat, he said, "Ah, boys, how about-"

"You little-take that _back_," James hissed, ignoring his father completely.

Al gave him a dark look. "No."

Silence.

Then,

_crack_!

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all jumped back as Al's chair was knocked back against the wall, Al tumbling out in the process. James had his wand out and was giving his brother such a glare that Harry had never seen before. "_Take. That. Back_."

"_No._"

James whipped his wand up once more as Harry leapt up. The Auror grabbed his own wand and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" James's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's.

James turned towards his father, looking murderous. "Dad, did you _hear _what he said-about-about Alice-about me-"

"No, but you need to _sit down_, James."

"_He had to have her, too!_"

Harry was shocked to hear these words coming from Al, rather than his brother. He turned toward his green-eyed son and opened his mouth to speak. He was cut off, however, by James shouting back, "For Merlin's sake Al, it was one-"

"But _why_, James! You don't love her-"

"And you do?"

"_Yes_, James, _yes. _And now...now..."

"_What_? She's in love with _me_?"

"_WHAT on earth are you two talking about!" _Harry shouted, frustrated and confused. "Don't tell me this is about a _girl_?"

Silence once again filled the air, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he took in his surroundings. The whole family, it seemed, had filed into the room to watch the whole fiasco. Al seemed to notice this too, as his face went red. Turning to James, he snapped, "I can't even listen to you. Just go find yourself some other girl to screw." Stuffing his wand back in his pocket, he stomped towards the front door, flung it open, and slammed it behind him.

Harry didn't know many details about this situation, but he did know one thing.

There aren't going to be any hugs. Not anymore.

The thought made him rather sad.

* * *

Harry didn't know if they ever made up. The only thing he knew was that a few weeks later, he was being woken in the middle of the night by a hysterical Ginny. He knew that by the time he and Ginny were at St. Mungo's it was three in the morning. He knew that by the end of the day there was a giant, gaping hole in his heart because seventeen year-olds aren't supposed to die.

But sometimes they just do.

"He was flying rather close to the ground, carrying the quaffle. The bludger hit the end of his broom and knocked him off, and he hit his head..."

Just like that.

* * *

So when they were at the Burrow, years after, discussing the rivalry between Albus and James, and Teddy looked up and met his gaze, neither of them said a word. There was a silent agreement between the two, that the others should never know.

Because Albus Severus Potter hated pity, and Harry knew that. So he kept up the pretense of his only son's dislike of James in front of the family. After all, God knows it's easier when someone you hate dies, rather than someone you love.

So Teddy kept his mouth shut, and Harry kept his mouth shut. No one would ever have to know that Al missed James much more than he ever hated him, and that James's first words upon hearing about his mother's second pregnancy weren't, "But I don't _want _a brother," but rather, "do you think he'll like me?"

_He did, James. Very much._

* * *

**Well. That was depressing. _Please review! _Yes, this is me begging. Be flattered; I'm throwing away my dignity for you. :)**


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